“Never,” he replied as her hair fell around them like a curtain.
Nerve endings were firing off like canons in the pleasure center of her brain. It was amazing, gravity was pulling her down every time he thrust up, allowing him to hit places she hadn't known existed. Within just a couple minutes, she was shaking and moaning and absolutely falling to pieces all around him.
“Oh my god,” her voice was even shaking. She let one arm drop away from the shelves and wrapped it around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. “Please, Wulf, please. I'm going to … I need to … I want to ...”
“God, I love it when you beg,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “Again. Do it again.”
“Please,” she whimpered. “Please, Wulf.”
“So close, yet can't say the right words,” he teased. She groaned in frustration.
“Please, please, make me come. Please.”
He kissed her then, his tongue halfway down her throat and distracting her from the fact that his hand was now between their bodies. She was moaning into his mouth when she felt his fingers sliding between them, strumming and pinching at swollen, sensitive flesh.
She understood why he'd kissed her so suddenly, because when she came, it was so hard she actually screamed. The sound was absorbed by his mouth. He started thrusting harder against her and she was reduced to just one long, continuous groan. He finally moved his lips to her throat and she let her head fall back again as she cried out in time to the electric pulses that were shooting through her body.
She wasn't sure how long she rode that orgasmic wave. It felt like forever because the harder he fucked her, the more it regrouped and spread further throughout her body. She was useless by the end, almost halfway unconscious. She suddenly realized she'd been staring at the ceiling for some time, gasping for air. She felt his hand back on her breast, pulling at the bustier material and trying to drag it down her chest.
“The best,” he was grunting. “The best, the best, the best, Tocci.”
“Yes,” she sighed, fully stepping back into reality. “This is the best.”
“You better goddamn remember that,” he growled, his tongue running up her cleavage.
“I will,” she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair.
“Remember who makes you feel this way, next time you're with him. Remember who's the best, when you're tallying your points.”
It was like a bucket of ice water was tossed over her entire body. She completely froze in place. Here she'd been, having a moment with him. Sure, it had started out as an anger bang born out of a silly argument, but it had moved into something lovely – him telling her never to be scared with him. Then something sensual – him telling her she was a work of art.
She hadn't been thinking about any game, or any choices, or any Liams. There had only been the two of them in that moment, just Wulf and Katya. If he hadn't said a word, she would've walked out of that room holding his hand, ready to go home with him and create even more naughty memories.
But the whole time, he'd been thinking about winning something. About beating Liam. She actually felt sick to her stomach, and she couldn't even be mad at him. She'd done this to herself. She'd set it up this way, she'd never been fully honest with him, so why should he think it was about anything else?
Because I want him to just feel what I'm feeling when we're in these moments. Maybe that's hoping for too much, though.
“Stop,” she said loudly, her voice flat.
“What?” he panted for air, slowing to a stop. She started pushing at his chest.
“Let go of me, get off,” she insisted, shoving at his shoulders.
“What's going on? What happened?” he asked, stepping back and slowly lowering her to the floor. His arms were still around her, though, and she started pulling at them.
“I said let go,” she grumbled.
“What's wrong? Are you okay, did I hurt you?” he asked, still out of breath. He started moving his hands over her body, rubbing up and down her sides. Trying to comfort her. A sweet gesture, really.
Goddammit, DO NOT cry right now!
“I'm okay, I'm fine,” she said, trying to hide a sniffle as she pulled herself free of his embrace. He gaped at her as she made her way back to her dress and stepped into the puddle of material.
“Tocci, what the fuck is going on!?” he demanded as she wiggled back into the dress.
“I have to go, I have to get out of here,” she replied, struggling to work the zipper up her back. He looked stunned for a moment, then he hurriedly put himself back together and zipped up his pants before stomping over to her.
“We were kind of in the middle of something,” he growled, then he whirled her around and zipped up the dress for her. “So don't tell me everything is fine.”
She didn't respond. If she didn't start moving, she really was going to start crying, so she hurried to the door. She was able to get back out into the hallway before he caught up to her. He draped his loose tie around his neck before going about buttoning up his shirt.
“I didn't say that,” she finally replied to his statement. “I just … I don't want to be here anymore.”
She burst into Liam's office without knocking. She'd halfway hoped he'd be in there – Wulf most likely wouldn't cause a scene in front of the other man. But unfortunately he wasn't there. She strode across the room and grabbed her trench coat and purse off a rack.
“Katya!” Wulf snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a halt. “Jesus christ, talk to me here. What happened?”
She refused to look at him. She dug around in her purse instead, searching for a hair tie. Once she found one, she quickly combed her fingers through her tousled locks, yanking everything up into a messy ponytail. Then she struggled to put on her jacket. Her hands were shaking so bad, though, she couldn't get the first button through its hole.
“Tocci.” She felt his forefinger under her chin and he forced her to look up at him. “Talk to me.”
Her lips shook for a moment, but luckily he didn't notice. He was staring right into her eyes. He looked confused and angry and still somewhat shocked. His hair was mussy and worked over, his clothing wrinkled and out of order.
He's beautiful.
“It's just ...” she spoke in a strained voice, then she cleared her throat. Took a deep breath. “I think we need to have a long talk some day soon.”
“Fuck that,” he snorted. “We're talking now.”
“No. I'm not doing this here, at some party, in Liam's office. I just … can't,” she said.
“You can't leave me like this and just say 'we'll talk sometime' – you owe more than that,” he insisted.
“I know,” she held up her hands, wishing she could magically make him disappear. “What just happened … it was a mistake.”
“It wasn't a -”
“Yes, it was. It was a mistake because … because it's not like that anymore. I'm not like that anymore,” she said.